


before we were us

by bloodrunsred



Series: just a little bit broken [5]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Autistic Morty Smith, Child Abuse, Citadel of Ricks, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Depressed Morty Smith, Episode: s03e08 Morty's Mind Blowers, First Meetings, Freeform, Grandpa Rick Sanchez (Rick and Morty), Grooming, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Latino Rick Sanchez (Rick and Morty), M/M, Molestation, Murder, Possessive Rick, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rick Being an Asshole, Sad Morty Smith, Sub Morty Smith, rick is not a good dude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-12 03:58:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17460200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodrunsred/pseuds/bloodrunsred
Summary: Morty met Rick and things changed.And maybe it was Morty's fault for folding to Rick like a doll to a puppet master but there were stars in Rick's eyes and galaxies in his smiles that Morty would never see again if he left.He needed him. And that was his fault too.





	before we were us

**Author's Note:**

> wowowowowow this took a while. A really nice commenter asked for physical confrontation on Needy (and then deleted their comment but i was i n s p i r e d so that will probably be in the next fic babes), so shoutout to them and I hope they like this (your comment was really sweet, im glad you enjoyed my fic)!!!
> 
> reminder, writing can be tough and comments/kudos are so inspiring and motivating for me so please do!
> 
> what you didn't see from Take a Break (kind of background for that ig) and how Rick and Morty became themselves. This is more intense and to the point because this isnt distorted through Rick's pov or Morty's mental illnesses or missing memories - this is how they happened, how morty became distrustful and anxious of Rick and how Rick deserves that anger.

Morty first met his grandfather when he was twelve. Almost thirteen.

His mother had cried. A lot. She hovered over Rick ( _"Just call me Rick, kiddo."_ ), her hands always slightly outstretched to him in the mockery of a familiar touch. She skirted around him like she was only a moon in his orbit; always there, but never coming too close. He let her stay back, brushing off her, at times, obvious longing for physical affection.

He wasn't so hesitant around Morty, though; introducing himself with a one armed hug and hair-ruffle that left Morty smiling, because, just maybe, his Grandpa Rick wasn't so bad after all. Morty hadn't been able to help the strange, happy feeling in his chest when Rick was less warm with Summer - even if it was probably because she was a girl, and older, and wouldn't be interested in hugs from her long-lost grandfather anyway.

His dad was less than welcoming, but he was quickly cowed into submission by Beth and all her half-drunken fury. He sulked in the corner of the room, seemingly warring with his distaste for Rick and his pathological need for attention. Rick didn't pay him much attention - though, if dirty looks counted as attention, he probably gave Jerry more than Beth.

 He wasn't what Morty had expected. His Mom never talked about him; it was like he was a secret, a myth that no one could put a name to. He was expecting an aloof, cruel man, if he ever met him at all, but Rick was  _friendly_. Abrasive, but funny, intimidating but relaxed. His appearance was confusing; a whirlwind trapped into one body, he was messy and put together all at once in a way that Morty envied.

Morty saw something in his face - just for a moment, he thought he saw a cruel curve to his smile and gleam in his eye that was gone before he had a chance to blink. He seemed comfortable, and Morty found that it looked nice on him; he seemed like the kind of man that didn't feel comfortable in many places, and his face seemed like it was too soft for the harsh lines that framed it.

Rick caught him staring, and winked. No one else saw it (not even his Mom with her Rick-centered field of vision), and a blush stained his cheeks as he ducked his head.

When he saw Rick talk to his Mom, he couldn't help but think that he was why she went for his Dad. His Dad and Rick were complete opposites, and Morty wasn't sure how that would work out if Rick was going to be living with them like his Mom said he would be. Maybe it would be good for the both of them, he thought absently, not truly believing his own misplaced optimism.

He eyed Jerry sticking his tongue out at Rick, and decided to just hope for the best.

The first night was a bit of a mess. Rick had arrived later in the evening, so there wasn't any real time to set up the cot in the spare bedroom. Morty was asked to give up his room for the night. He almost joked about how they owed him big-time, just to get a laugh out of either of them, but his Mom turned back to Rick before even finishing her request and he decided to let her have her reunion. 

He could sacrifice that small thing for her and Rick, it wasn't a big deal.

Still, her being distant and the lack of thanks she normally always gave him when asking him to do things like that made him hesitate slightly. Rick caught his eye and lifted a shoulder slightly as if to say,  _"Don't worry about it_. _"_  

Slightly mollified, Morty ran upstairs, to tidy his bedroom up a little. There wasn't much to clean - his room was almost depressingly bland - but he took his time, scooping the washing on his floor up slowly as he tried to listen in on his Mom's and Rick's conversation. His Mom was a loud conversationalist; she liked to make herself heard, liked to make sure everyone knew what she had to say.

He could hear her laughing, "Dad, that's too funny!"

He strained his ears to hear what Rick said back to her, but all he could hear was liquid splashing against it's container - probably from Rick's flask or his Mom's glass. 

From what Morty had seen that evening, he could probably assume that alcoholism ran in the family.

He filled in what Rick was saying by himself;  _"Want another glass, sweetie?"_ Rick might have said before Morty heard the all-too familiar sound of wine being poured into a glass.  _"Tell me about your work,"_ he might have said before Beth went on a long rant about horses and how many came in because of the races.

Once he deemed his room fit to have a guest in it, he headed back downstairs. Hopefully, his Mom would let him stay up late and watch some T.V. to make up for kicking him out of his room. Though, as he inched back down the stairs, he heard her laugh and joke and thought, maybe she wouldn't notice either way.

Like a weight had been dropped on his stomach, he realised that things might be different now. This was new and unfamiliar territory, and constantly having one grandparent around after rarely seeing Jerry's parents would be a huge adjustment. 

But, Rick was cool. He kind of reminded Morty of the kids at school - crass, innapropriate, over-confident; but it suited Rick like a second skin rather than a cheap persona. 

"Mom?" His voice sounded small even to his own ears, and Rick looked on amusedly as Mom turned around with an annoyed crease between her eyebrows. Her expression smoothed when she saw Morty, but he couldn't help but feel guilty. Anxious, as though he had interrupted something important. He hoped he hadn't - he never wanted her sharp tongue turning on him like it did his father.

It hadn't happened yet, but his Mom got sloppy and mean about insignificant things when she was drunk and Morty had a feeling this was the most important thing in the world to her.

 "Yes, Morty?" Even her voice was different - he couldn't help but compare it to Rick's when he exchanged brief words with Jerry. Tense, dispassionate; like she was tired of him even though he had barely said a word.

"What's u- what's good, kiddo?" Rick took a lazy sip from his flask and Beth's expression softened.

"My, um," he wasn't used to feeling this uncomfortable at home, "my room is ready?"

The shadow of a thunderstorm crossed his Mom's face and he realised, oh no, he had said the wrong thing, she was going to get so drunk and blame him, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no-

"Thanks, Mort," Rick said, ruffling Morty's hair as he passed him. "Goodnight, sweetie." He called out to Beth, taking the stairs two at a time.

 She responded in kind, and the dim lighting cast a shine on the dried tear tracks staining her cheeks, the wine in her glass and the wedding ring on her finger.

 

* * *

 

  
Beth went to bed earlier than usual. Morty didn't.

He was curled up on the couch, taking up most of the cushions with his blanket tangled around his legs. He was flicking through the channels, trying and failing to find something to hold his interest; his eyes were drooping and he was yawning but he wasn't tired; not mentally at least. The channel he was on swam in and out of clarity, bright colours swirling and mixing together like a terrible Picasso painting. He yawned again, and barely flinched when the couch dipped in response to Rick's weight.

"Not - not sleepy, Mort-Mort?" Rick sounded _drunk._ The kind of drunk Morty had only seen on trashy television, before the people got kicked off of whatever show they were on, the kind of drunk that killed a person in  _SVU._

"N-nah," Morty turned back from the television, letting the faint hum of cartoon wash over him alongside childhood nostalgia, "guess not."

"Sameeee," Rick flopped over until he was stretched out on Morty's legs. The weight would have been comfortable if not for the vodka seeping into his pyjama pants.

"What - what are you doing, then?" God, making conversation had his already low mental energy draining out of him faster, leaving him dizzy and utterly boneless on the vaguely uncomfortable cushions.

"Just - just gonna hang out wif' - wif' you, Mort-Mort," Rick giggled, kind of making Morty want to laugh too, "you're gonna - I'm gonna - we're gonna have so much funnnn."

"Okay," everything was getting hazy, his vision blurring more and more until he was half-convinced he was going to fall asleep right then and there, "and you and Mom?"

Rick laughed even though Morty didn't say anything funny. Morty let his eyes slip shut, content to just bask in this moment with his grandpa. 

"Nah - no, Morty," Rick was talking, but it was hard to understand exactly what he was saying, "just you n' me. Rick and - and Morty, my favourite, Rick and Morty forever and forever and-"

He fell silent and Morty forced his eyes open with a groan to make sure he hadn't died. Rick had passed out, still draped over Morty's legs. 

Morty was stuck and it was more than a little uncomfortable, but it was nice that Rick came to see him. He wiggled a little, wrapping his arms around his pillow and not fighting his eyes shutting. Rick gave a sleepy mumble and grabbed at his pant leg. 

Maybe it would be nice to finally be someone's favourite.

 

* * *

 

 

The next few weeks passed uneventfully.

Rick didn't mention their late night talk, so Morty didn't bring it up. Beth didn't either, even though she was the one that woke them up in the morning - and, God, that morning was just the start of  _everything_.

Beth couldn't say no to Rick. She wanted to, on more than a few occasions; Morty saw how she had to bite her lip after Rick took him out of school for the third time that week, how she shifted uncomfortably when Rick blew up the garage. If it were anyone else, he had no doubts that she would have kicked them out of the house. Unfriended them on Facebook, yelled at them and sued them.

Not Rick.

And Morty could see why; Rick was smart and calculating, and he didn't need them but he stayed with them anyway. Morty had seen what Rick could do, had listened to Rick's stories of powerful machines and aliens and an evil Federation. Morty had also seen Rick brush off everyone in their family as though they were gnats. Annoying and insignificant.

Though he did have a bit more tolerance for him and Beth. Summer occasionally, but Morty supposed she stayed on the verge of not-needy-enough that Rick didn't care for chasing after her or giving her special treatment. She didn't get hurt by Rick, and Rick ignored her for the most part. It was their thing.

Rick also didn't like Jerry. At all. It was something he made abundantly clear, and for all he liked to be dispassionate about most things, he didn't lay off Jerry one bit.

"Kill yourself, Jerry," was a favourite of Rick's, and a look that read _wh_ _y did you marry this idiot_ was often directed at Beth, who tended to join in with Rick. The near daily fights had Morty eagerly awaiting his birthday, one of the only days where that would (hopefully) take a backseat.

He couldn't deny it, though, Rick was definitely making waves in their household.

All Morty could hope is that no-one rocked the boat too hard.

 

* * *

 

"H-hey, uh, Rick," Morty inched closer to Rick, slightly on edge from Rick yelling at him when he interrupted his working on a new project, "what are you working on?"

Rick gave him a bored look, before putting down the tools in his hand and picking up a machine for Morty to admire. It looked a bit like a gun, with two large circles attached to a wide base. Morty wasn't going to lie, it looked pretty stupid.

"This," Rick said grandly,"is my new memory gun."

"Cool!" Morty said, bending over to look at it closer, "So does it, like, take memories or something?"

Rick laughed. It wasn't a nice laugh.

"Yeah, Mort," he said, "or something."

"Wow," Morty said, "how does it work?"

"Do you really wanna - want me to show you?" Morty nodded, and Rick looked a bit too pleased with himself. "I needed to test it anyway," he said simply.

Morty barely had time to quirk his brow in confusion before Rick pulled the trigger and

 

* * *

 

Morty didn't want to miss his math test.

He had missed out on seeing Jessica four times that week already, and his grades were slipping fast. He had never been the best student, of course, but missing his tests wasn't a problem he had ever had before. He usually answered at random which got him at least thirty percent. Which was a hell of a lot better than zero and a non-attendance award.

"C'mon, Morty," Rick whined, pulling at his arm none-too gently, "it's just to the Citadel!"

"Rick, I don't even know what the Citadel is!" Morty said, trying desperately to dig his heels into the dirty floor of his school's hallway. "And I have a test! I don't even know - I can't remember what it's on!"

Rick rolled his eyes and Morty tried to ignore the piercing eyes of the stragglers at their lockers. He ducked his face and was tempted to just say yes to get away from everyone when Rick opened his mouth.

"L-look," he said, "I'll get you back in time for your math class, okay? When is it, fourth period?"

It was third, but Morty was supposed to be going into second period right then and adventures with Rick took  _hours_. Morty spared a split-second to wonder how this had become his life, before he sighed and stopped pulling back on Rick's arm.

"Fine," he said, "b-but can you - can we please be back in time for it? Please?"

Rick stared down at him. Morty wondered if maybe he saw something akin to softness in his eyes but he didn't have time to dwell on it, Rick shooting a portal into the wall and dragging him along with him.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Rick said. 

 

*

 

Morty didn't know what to expect when Rick mentioned the Citadel, but it wasn't  _this._

"R-rick, I don't think Mom would like this," he said, staring at  _himself_ across the street, "Dad said not to take me out anymore because we've only known you for a little while."

"And your Mom said I can do whatever-"

"I don't think that's true-"

"-So shut up or I'll leave you behind."

Morty blinked.

He opened his mouth.

He shut it again.

Rick seemed to understand that he'd crossed one of Morty's lines but he didn't apologise, not like he normally did when he really hurt him.

"The Citadel was made - Rick's made it a little while ago so they could hide from the Galactic Federation," Rick explained, "I don't agree with it - Grandpa hates governments, Morty, so should everyone, Mort."

Rick led Morty down the street with an unyielding grip on his arm. Morty bit his lip, wanting to just understand  _why_ but not wanting to open his mouth in case Rick made good on his promise. Would it be hard? To abandon him when there were easily sixty of him in close vicinity?

There was a version of him lying in an alleyway. He looked-

Dead. At just twelve years old, was that really him, would that really be him?

Rick sneered when what seemed like a homeless him, a homeless Morty, asked for portal home. 

Would that be him?

Morty wished he had said no and gone to class because air wasn't going into his lungs and he was dead and alive and walking and running and green and and and and and

And Rick was at the center of it all.

"Snap out of it," Rick's voice was dark and harsh and Morty hated it as much as he hated this place. 

He didn't say anything - what was there to say? - and so he just followed Rick down increasingly dirty streets and around shadowed corners until they reached a seedy looking bar (one of many that Morty had seen in the span of ten minutes). 

He didn't want to go in but Rick didn't seem to care. 

"C'mon," he said, yanking Morty to follow him like a puppet master commanding a doll, and Morty was almost ashamed at how quickly he tucked his metaphorical tail between his legs, "I have - we've got something to do, Morty."

Morty just wanted him to let go and steal his portal gun, but he followed behind Rick like a meek little dog. He had whiplash from just how fast his world had changed, and he briefly entertained the notion of this Rick not being his; but he could see the scar on his hand from an accident in the lab not even a week ago, and he had seemed normal until they reached this place.

He wrinkled his nose as the scent of stale beer and vomit reached his nose, but Rick hardly reacted. It made sense; the bar was only slightly worse than Rick's garage on bad days. That didn't mean that Morty had to like it.

"Oi," a grizzly looking Rick said from the bar, cradling a shot glass like it was his first born child, "you C-137?" 

 "Yeah," his Rick, Morty's Rick, said, pulling Morty forward to take a seat next to Grizzly Rick, before sitting on his other side. Morty couldn't help but feel trapped, boxed in by the smartest people - person - alive. "You-"

"Obviously, d-dipshit, otherwise, I wouldn't - why would I have asked who you were?"

Rick grit his teeth but, instead of starting a fight, he called over a Bartender Rick.

"And a drink for his Morty," Grizzly Rick said after Morty's Rick ordered his whiskey, "a Sex on the Beach, on me."

Morty turned to his Rick, mouth open and ready to say, no, he was twelve, he couldn't have a drink - what if he ended up like his Mom, or Rick? Before he could get a word out, Rick bared his teeth at Grizzly Rick like a lion proclaiming ownership over his prey.

"No, I- he's  _my_ Morty," Rick all but snarled, making Morty shrink back. He half expected Grizzly Rick to back off too, but he should have known that wasn't going to happen.

"Aw, your little Morty's been trained good," he mocked, "he fu- he wipe your ass f-for you too, kid?"

Morty straightened his back as much as the overwhelming numbness that draped itself over his brain would allow, and accepted the drink from Grizzly Rick.

_Don't think about it._

It was a dusky pink and Morty half wanted his Rick to pull the drink from his hands and drag him straight back home, but he just watched. With hooded eyes and a devil-may-care attitude, he let Morty accept the drink with no fuss and a drained glass. Morty swallowed nervously, placing the drink on the counter and wiping his shaking hands - why were they shaking - on his jeans.

When no-one stopped him, he took a sip and screwed up his face at the taste. It was tart. He didn't think he could taste much alcohol, but it bordered on the line of too sweet and not sweet enough in a way that was distinctly strange. There was a bitter taste to it; and he wouldn't have had another sip if Grizzly Rick didn't raise his refilled shot glass in a toast.

"To your first," he said with a smile that wasn't reflected on his Rick's face.

Morty let them talk business over his head, while he took small sip from his straw. He felt floaty; spinny, even though he was sitting still. It was kind of funny, and it made him want to drink some more, even though the sensible part of his brain told him that was a bad, bad idea. He raised his glass only to find that it was empty.

"Heyyyyy," he said, drawing the attention of both of the Ricks next to him, "'s all gone."

"Mother _fucker_ ," Rick (his Rick? They were blurring together), said, "you drugged him?"

And Morty remembered from his health class in school, how they talked about drugs and the devil's lettuce and how the girls in his class tutted over the case of date-rape drugs on the news. His head clonked down on wood that was so stained and sticky, he would have lifted his head if it were physically possible.

"Think of it as a - as a down payment," Grizzly Rick (his Rick? No?) laughed, "you don't have this substance, I don't have a Morty. Let's make a deal."

With strength that should have been impossible for a man his age, the Rick with the vodka that wasn't angry, pulled Morty into his lap. It was too close, too fast, too much and Morty was going to throw up. 

"Nooooo..." Morty said, pushing at his side when he started to kiss his head, then his face, then his neck. "Gr'npa..."

He didn't like this at all, this Rick's mouth was searing and traces of vodka were left on his skin as his lips started trailing lower and his hand started creeping higher. He looked pleadingly for his Rick to help him - because it all made sense, his Rick wouldn't do this to him, of course he wouldn't - but Rick only beckoned to the Bartender for another whiskey and no-one  _helped._

"He's a sweetie, isn't he?" Grizzly Rick cooed. "Makes me wish my Beth hadn't died so young."

"You really are a bastard," Morty's Rick finally spoke, something like awe tangling with his words, "thought they were all exaggerating."

Morty wanted his Mom, he wanted to go home, he wanted a hug, not a kiss, not a kiss, not a kiss,  _not a kiss_

"Nah," Grizzly Rick's hand slipped under his shirt and tears finally pooled over, spilling down his cheeks in a steady stream even though he couldn't do much but whimper and whine and stare at his Grandpa who wasn't helping him. "Just like getting what I want."

"What you - he's mine, my Morty," Rick didn't seem to be in a particular hurry to talk Grizzly down from hurting Morty  _oh God no no no no no no please_ but he seemed to be getting stiffer, back straightening from it's relaxed hunch, drink set down on the counter.

"Riiiiiick," Mrty said and he wasn't sure exactly who he was talking to.

"Let's go, kiddo," his Rick said, hand wrapping around Morty's arm like an iron band and it was so comforting Morty wanted to cry even more, "let's blow this joint."

Grizzly had a tight grip around Morty's waist, though, and pulled back harsh enough that Morty was gagging on the drink making it's way back up his throat. "Look, asshole do you need - do you want those mushrooms or not?"

"I'm more independent," Rick said, pulling Morty until his body crashed into Rick's, "I like my - my stuff to be mine, and I hate paying off dickheads."

Grizzly let Morty go, eyeing the gun on Rick's belt and playing off the tent in his pants with a short grin.

"Whatever floats your boat, brother," he winked, "let me know if you wanna mess - if you wanna play sometime. Morty's are always fun playmates."

Morty retched and Rick steered him out of the door with a mild look of disgust on his face.

They made their way back to center of the Citadel silently, Morty stumbling and holding onto Rick the entire way there. 

They passed the same homeless Morty but the body in the alleyway was gone. It made Morty hold on to Rick tighter, like he'd vanish in a swirl of green light if he slipped out of Morty's grasp and Morty would be left there alone to die.

"We're leaving," Rick said finally, shooting a portal into a wall. The urge to ask Rick why they bothered to walk at all was a buzz in Morty's hazy mind. Seeing the portal made him sob in relief because maybe he could go hug his Mom now. Maybe he could go to school even though he had almost definitely missed his test.

He tripped through and it was Rick's bedroom and Morty collapsed on the hard cot because he was so, so tired and he could sleep on rock's as long as he was able to lie down. He could hear the portal close and he hoped Rick wouldn't kick him out. 

"You're so, so stupid, Mort," Rick murmured, running his hand through Morty's hair, "how did it feel?"

"I..." Morty whispered and he should have been defending himself but he needed to organise himself first. "Scary. Gross. He - you, you're my Gr'npa. Hurt."

"That's what I thought," Rick said, and then lips were on Morty's again and Morty tensed as much as he could because oh no, was this Grizzly instead? "Open your eyes."

Morty forced his eyes open and his vision was clear enough to see the gun with electricity crackling on the round discs and

 

* * *

 

 

"How was your test, sweetie?" Beth asked, voice as sweet as sugar.

"What test?"

 

* * *

 

"Rick you can't - you can't be in here, this is my room, I'm nearly thirteen and this is my space!"

 

"Fuck- go fuck yourself, Morty," Rick slurred, dropping half a dozen guns and knives on Morty's bed and crushing Morty with his own surprisingly heavy weight. "Fuckin' - you're a fuckin' retard, Mort, so fuckin' stupid."

Morty bit his lip and tried not to cry as Rick's drunken ramblings slipped into snores and sleep-mangled curses.

 

* * *

 

"Rick, I know you, you're not - you're not mean! You used to apologise and, and not come into my room and-"

"And what?" Rick was seething and Morty was sick and tired of the 'Morty is a piece of shit' speeches. He couldn't remember how or when it had changed but it had and he hated it with every fiber of his being. He was the same with his Mom still, why couldn't it be like that with him?

"And all your stupid, psycho bullshit!"

Morty didn't have time to blink becaues he was being pushed, hard, into the garage wall. He sank to his knees cradling his head, and Rick stood over him like a lord over a slave or a God over a human, or a Rick over a Morty.

"You don't fucking know me," Rick growled, "you - I'm Rick Sanchez and I am more than you will ever be, and I am a fucking  _God_. Y-you don't - you don't fucking matter, you're a retard and I'm so fucking drunk, oh my God..."

Morty pulled his hand away froom his head and it was spotted with blood.

"I..."

"Shut up, shut up, I do what I want and I'm not a fucking pussy like you!"

"Rick..."

"Oh shit, oh fuck," then Rick was on his knees and it was whiplash that felt familiar because Rick was the problem and the solution, the hurt and the soothing presence and Morty hated him, hated him, hated him. "Look here, Mort."

There was a buzzing under Morty's skin that told him not to look, a part of his brain that screamed against it but he looked anyway and

 

* 

 

He didn't trust Rick anymore, wasn't sure he knew how to understand him or anyone, and the urge to cower and hide was an itch under his skin that left him antsy and wary of Rick's every mood.

 

* * *

 

 

It was finally Morty's birthday and he was going to be a teenager which was a really big deal for him. His Mom and Dad too, because they both gave him a hug in the morning and told him they loved him which wasn't something that happened every day. His Mom let him stay home, even though his Dad protested (though Morty thought it might be a way for her to make up for letting Rick take him out all night.

Rick was unimpressed and Morty couldn't have cared less because it was his day, finally, Rick didn't matter and it was all what he wanted to do. 

He spent most of the day asleep, learning to ignore the sound of Rick bitching outside his door and crashes from the garage.

He was excited for the cake especially, and he hoped everyone would sober up so they could all enjoy it as an attempt at a nice family dessert. It was white and blue and he tossed the candles behind him. He'd barely had a bite when Summer left to meet a friend and his parents went to go argue over the t.v. He was going for a second when he noticed the frosting on Rick's scowling face.

"Rick! I- I'm so sorry, I just-" Morty was laughing and he only half regretted it because it was usually Rick laughing at him and it was nice to know that Rick was fallible to small mishaps like birthday candles to the face. 

"Bet that just blows your mind, huh, Morty." 

Morty stopped laughing and made to stare at Rick in confusion when

 

* * *

 

"It's not your birthday, dipshit," Rick said, frowning at his empty flask.

"But yesterday was Wednesday, which means-"

"Today's Friday, retard," Rick said, walking away with a scowl set in his face. "Learn to fuckin' remember things."

"But-"

 

* * *

 

It was late at night and Rick had been living with them for a few months now. The adventures were fun and space was cool and Rick was the kind of person Morty wanted to be (minus the alcoholism and disregard for sentient life), and he noticed Morty in a way that most adults didn't. Being someone's favourite wasn't always fun and Morty was sure that it was going to end badly for him, but it didn't stop him from wanting to enjoy the attention.

He was thirteen, he had one friend, and he didn't really like the way his friend made him feel but if he gave them up then he wouldn't have anything.

His Mom needed his friend and his family needed his Mom and he needed a friend.

Rick didn't need any of them, but wanting them was enough for Morty.

It was probably what Rick meant when he called Morty stupid - and Morty probably was an idiot for needing him, but he did anyway.

Maybe he could learn to like it more or less, but he was stuck in the middle and that suited him just fine.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> might change my universe but its late and C-137 is where my mind goes as our canon characters. ending is weak but its 12am so ill edit later. comment my beauties <3 feel free to ask questions about me/my works i love hearing from yall
> 
> click [HERE](https://xbloodrunsredx.tumblr.com/) for my tumblr!


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